


Dessert Interruptus

by notbug (KageKashu)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Body Hair, Established Relationship, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KageKashu/pseuds/notbug
Summary: From Prompt: Fuzzball Madara covered in syrup, good luck getting it out of the chest hair.Madara has a reason he doesn't usually eat without a shirt on. Every now and then, he's reminded why.





	Dessert Interruptus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cirrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirrat/gifts).



> There's a theme I'm ending up with here. Perhaps because it's fully settled into winter rains around here, I'm writing characters who are suffering from summer heat.
> 
> (Also, slight deviation from the prompt, because "covered" didn't happen.)
> 
> (This is sometime in the indeterminate future for Rec-verse.)

* * *

There’s a reason Madara rarely eats without a top of some sort on. Every now and then, he needs to prove to himself why he does that, and today... It’s warm in the house, even with the wall panels open to let in a breeze. He’s been lounging all afternoon in a loose pair of pants, uninterested in throwing on even a light yukata, which would take him from comfortable to sweating. 

Tobirama brought dango in some time ago, setting it in on the table for Madara before heading into the kitchen. As far as sweets go, dango - especially mitarashi dango - is one of the best. The sauce is a thick, sweet and savory syrup that matches the simple balls of mochi. It’s just his luck that he drops the damned thing, when he picks it up. And it lands _right in the middle of his chest_. 

The sound that escapes his throat is equal parts horror and denial. The dango is never going to be the same, because he’s going to have to pick chest hairs out of it before he can eat it. Worse, there’s now mitarashi sauce on his chest, and that’s just... No. Without full on _bathing_ , getting that off is going to be a pain. Not that he’s opposed to baths, he just planned to take his once the day cooled. 

Likely alerted by Madara’s squawking, Tobirama comes back, only to stand there blinking at him before bursting into startled laughter. “You utter disaster,” he says, wiping at his eyes. “I’ll go and get you a washcloth.” He’s still snickering as he walks away. 

A washcloth. If it’s wet with warm water, it will ensure that he doesn’t feel _gross_ as he lays around for the rest of the afternoon, and he can put off the bath like he had planned. By the time Tobirama returns - seemingly composed, but with a tell-tale tightening of the cheek that suggests he’s actively fighting the urge to keep laughing - Madara’s half-heartedly picking hairs out of the sauce on his stick of dango. 

Tobirama’s composure slips, and his shoulders are shaking as he slaps the wet cloth onto Madara’s chest. “You’re pouting, and you look stupid,” he says, and bites his lips. 

(Madara knows the truth behind those words. Tobirama thinks he’s cute.) 

* * *


End file.
